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Alistair Kingsley
Description Alistair formerly held a relatively bulky physical demeanor in similarity with his closest of kin, Grayson, however with a change in diet and a shift in labor has subtly slimmed down the warrior over the years. Standing at an impeccably average height of 6'0, it was clear that he wasn't anything particularly special when it came to height, or sheer muscle mass for that manner. It was in his agility that he held most of his combat-capable skills; his muscle structure leaning more towards a mesomorphic side. With most of his time spent in the wilderness Alistair has developed serious endurance and natural prowess when it came to withstanding the elements. Scars and tales of battle riddle his arms, chest, and legs; though his face seems to hold a strange absence of any wounds asides from the sparse missing tooth. His features when seldom uncovered from the scarf he often dons also brings sight of the Kingsley lineage. His soft cheeks led down to a sharp, chiseled jaw line which was sparsely covered in a poorly kept beard. Unlike his sibling, however, the canvas of Alistair's face remains unblemished from freckles and also seems to uphold a sense of higher masculinity. A broad nose rests in the center of his face, sloping down softly to a gentle end above his chapped lips. And, of course, the green eyes the Kingsley line was oh-so-known for. A predominant factor in the family is a set of piercing green orbs that hold a kind softness to them, despite the undeniable emerald glow bestowed from within. At the top of Alistair's empty dome is a set of luscious yet clearly messy brown locks which dusts past his ears. As your eyes draw away from inspecting his physical features, you could easily find yourself lost within the craftsmanship of his assorted leather and sparse plate which seemed to be modified to be more appropriate for movement. Across his toned chest rests an assortment of scars, lacking the protection one of his profession might insist for; opting for a more barbaric take to combat, and certainly reckless. A large gap seemed to take place between his bicep and gauntlets, promising the clear function of additional movement at the cost of impeded protection. As you trace your eyes south, his large legs seemed to be coated in a familiar set of plate and leather protection, save his knees which remained simply covered in leather for the sake of mobility for the cost of protection. Personality Often disregarded as a fool, it was clear to most that Alistair seldom took a situation in a serious tone. Cracking jokes and making self-proclaimed witty comments, joviality was but the sole driver behind his actions. Despite his actual intelligence and swift learning capabilities, he could easily be dismissed as a imbecile or otherwise a fucking retard. Some, if not most, took this to heart despite everything, and do tend to warm up to the warrior with ease. Friends are in abundance around him, and he makes it clear to enjoy their presence with the occasional jest towards them. Though, asides from all of this, he was warm at heart through and through. Amiable efforts and acts of generosity remain obviously second nature to him, with gifts and surplus amounts of coin being often flung at his acquaintances. The kindness comes at a cost though, of course. His previous position under the meticulous and very successful businessman, Artemis E. Wright, served him well. With his eventual retirement from his position, he was granted a handsome dowry alongside the years of coin he earned with hard work and dedication. Placing most of his wealth with his younger brother, he has succeeded to a more ascetic and simple lifestyle befitting one of the forest. With this, he has clearly gained a large respect for the more simple aspects of life, and has easily learned not to take much for granted. Learning the trade of a huntsmen and trapper, he holds massive respect for the creatures of the forest, and for those who communicate with them. This draws him to the affiliation in which his dear wife remains faithfully committed to. Underneath the mask of kindness is a side Alistair struggles to keep under lock and key. Years of warfare and conflict has left him with the impression of anger boiling within. A rage that he struggles to keep mastery over on a daily basis, to prevent it impeding on his everyday life. This has caused him to undertake a much more relaxed lifestyle with the avoidance of stress or situations that would cause the unavoidable breaking point. Speaking with a soft spoken and gentle tone, Alistair could easily be dismissed as lazy or dormant by his critical peers due to his dull and relatively boring mindset; though the lust for adventure still remains ever prominent within his mind. Asides from his ascetic values, lazy schedule, and jovial tone, Alistair remains a fairly simple soul. Biography Alistair Kingsley, a brave soul brought into this world shortly after the beginning of the first war. As such, a life of combat and treachery awaited him and his family. This was the life of a warrior, one that would bring him to the very highs and lows of his existence. This, also, was the life he strove to keep away from his children; for them to experience the same trials and tribulations he faced would be unthinkable. This is his goal, his one true motivation now-a-days. To promise his children a safe place in the conflict-riddled land of Azeroth. Born three years after the initial opening of the Dark Portal, Alistair soon saw conflict into his early years as a small child. His life was filled with bloodshed from the beginning; no matter how his family tried to keep him from it. His father, Jameson Kingsley, was, and still remains the proud patriarch of the Kingsley household. A seasoned veteran of all three wars, Jameson is a man bred by conflict at sea. An expert sailor, and a even better swordsman, to see his flag is equivalent to signalling for your own defeat. As for his mother… Elizabeth Kingsley (nee Woodrow) was a beautiful lass, fair and proud lady-in-waiting of a prestigious noble house amongst the Lordaeron's upper class. To have her hand in marriage was certainly no easy feat by the young Jameson. Perhaps it was his youthful vigor that swooned her; or the fact that every suitor that neared her fell in a duel. Regardless, their love was true, and remained such until her untimely death from a case of a nasty and untimely illness. This was a turning point for the family, one that would break them apart. Despite his parents attempt to keep him away from bloodshed, just at the measly age of two, the Orcs-- they attacked. Blood, cries for help. Ingrained deep into the youth as a turning point in his life. This was what fueled his hatred for the orcs; the hatred his sibling seemed to never understand. The barbaric horde flung through the streets of Stormwind, cutting down innocents left and right in the name of their so called ‘honor’. The family was one of the few survivors, Jameson managing to escort them to the docks. Having fled to the far reaches of the Eastern Kingdoms, the family found refuge in the beautiful hillsides of the Hinterlands.. The Kingsley household has had a long withstanding allegiance with the Wildhammer dwarves, the progenitors of the Kingsley line fighting alongside them against the vicious and bloodthirsty Amani forest trolls in the fabled Arathor Troll Wars. As such, they soon found some rest from the hostility within Aerie Peak, where Elizabeth would raise the youth with caution and until the Grand Alliance of Lordaeron reclaimed Stormwind. When Alistair was just reaching the age of four, and his youthful spirit began to unfurl in the peaceful lands of Aerie Peak, Elizabeth gave birth to another child in the Kingsley household. Grayson Kingsley. The boy was small, puny at best-- something only a mother would love, and truly was so. Whether as a conflict of recessive genes or a downright lack of luck, Grayson was small all of his life; having looked up to his brother in every sense of the word. Regardless, he was trained in combat, just as his brother was; to protect and ensure their future. And with the eventual prosperity bestowed upon the Kingsley household, they soon settled into the serenity around them. Alistair began learning from his mother how to read and write, what supplies they managed to scavenge in the escape from their home. Looking after his younger sibling, the two spent the following years learning and training amongst the prestigious Wildhammer clan. The two grew strong, and well into early adolescence, Alistair sprouting up at the early age of twelve, standing at a impressive 5’8 for his age. Soon, the two would find the Second War coming to a close, their father returning to the family after the rigorous campaigns to find Elizabeth befallen with a terrible illness. Despite all of the natural remedies the Wildhammer offered, nothing could beat away the disease. Nothing could save the strong soul, despite all of her fighting for her children; she eventually passed away in her sleep. Whilst peaceful, it made a lasting scar on the boys, especially Grayson, who would devote a large portion of his life to helping the sick and downtrodden. Alistair, however, turned his sorrow and grief into anger. Falling apart with his brother, the two seldom spoke for the passing years, often times ignoring one another. As the mother had passed away, the grief-stricken father eventually took the two back to the rebuilt Stormwind in the aftermath of the reclamation. Opting for a fairly extravagant cabin in the woods of Elwynn, the three settled down, attempting to pick up the pieces once more. Whilst obviously grief-stricken and broken, the family remained strong, and one day, the siblings would rekindle their fire. As the siblings seemingly grew distant, so did the time spent together. Whilst their father spent the coin for them to both attend the same school, they seldom studied together. The two attended classes night and day in the Northshire Abbey, due to the rigorous expectations of them by their stern and grief-ridden father. While they both held a keen intelligence, Alistair seldom listened. He lashed out against his mentors and often cut class, to both his father and surprisingly his brother’s dismay. It was on one of these afternoons, that the brothers reunited. Spending the hot summer afternoons outside of Crystal Lake, Alistair was obviously wary of the rampant Murloc tribes, and knew which places to avoid. He was rebellious of course, and enjoyed even the thought of danger; even though it seldom occurred. It was on this summer afternoon that a sharp scream broke on the horizon. One familiar to him. It was his sibling, and as such; the youth rushed to the distant pleas for help, discovering the wounded body of his sibling underneath the hunched over figure of a murloc. Soon, the murloc realised his mistake. Alistair rushed over, tackling the primordial creature to the ground in a flurry of anger and grief for what he thought to be the corpse of his brother. Screaming unfurled rage, he lashed out at the scaled monstrosity with everything he had, punching it one after another, and soon blood covered his body; though it was not his own. After eventually calming the storm of anger, he attended the matter at hand; Grayson. Luckily, his younger brother held consciousness through the wounds from the conflict, and the two were able to make a hasty escape. With the two siblings growing well into adulthood despite all of the travesties plaguing their childhood, they came out on top. Finishing their education, they focused on martial combat in pursuit of greatness like their father, and practiced through whatever weather to better themselves in preparation for the future to come. Neither of them intended to pursue a career in the military, however, the free-spirited Alistair and the docile Grayson knew themselves that they held no place amongst a battlefield. But, they didn’t lie dormant. Grayson, a proud scholar and faithful servant of the Light, heard about the horrific onslaught occurring in Northrend, and served quick to the side of the Argent Crusade. There, he met an old friend from Northshire Abbey, his teacher and mentor, Victor Sanders. It was here he also met someone who would train him to be a paladin to be feared; the eldest of Victor, James. A fabled knight-captain of Lordaeron who has probably slain more scourge than some veteran Quel’dorei rangers. It was here Grayson flourished into the man he is today. Alistair too, took his own path. A path of brief solitary on the roads leading to the Wetlands, stopping a peculiar camp in the Swamp of Sorrows. It was here that he met someone who would become his lifelong friend and boss, Artemis E. Wright. Joining up with the Gypsy Eyes Caravan, they mastered the art of trading and haggling (and flirting, to an extent). He remained in charge of security detail for a long time, due to his physical prowess and general handle on warfare. Years pass, and someone would soon change his life. Nytharia Wildseeker. A name that would soon ring true bliss in the ears of the warrior. His first love, and likely the one that will remain his only love. In one of the countless business ventures, Alistair met the Kaldorei in the forests of Ashenvale, having stirred a nest of Nightsabers in search of pelts. The reckless move was unthinkable by the nature-loving Kaldorei of yore. And as such, when Alistair roared up and attempted to slay one of the younger cubs for their fabled and luxurious pelt; a root snagged him down. Such was the coincidence, that the woman who stopped the reckless human would become his life-partner. After the anger boiled over from her, she explained to him the importance of maintaining balance in nature; and to hunt for luxury and not necessity will be the end of us all if we allow it. Alistair apologized, and soon-- befriended the Kaldorei. The two would talk for hours on end, and they quickly developed a bond, much to the dismay of Kaldorei culture. Though, she was already an outcast by most. The reasons for this were… particularly obscured, though-- given the half-blood she already reared, it was evident she had a passing attraction for the ignorance of humans. Regardless of this, their relationship developed swiftly, and soon they had a prospering partnership that has lasted for years now despite the odds. Together, and with love, they raised two children; Aldran and Ashe, twins by fraternal relation. This is where Alistair found happiness, and more importantly; love. And it was with this bond that Alistair was soon to develop his fond fervor for the aspects of nature; studying under his very partner Nytharia, whom at the time was already a fairly talented druidess. He gained acceptance within circles of Kaldorei culture for his deeds and sacrifices made to the betterment of the wildlife of Azeroth, putting stops to countless poachers and game-hunters. The future looks bright for the warrior, and with time, he will raise his children with prosperity in mind. And he will give his all to do so.